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Manhattan's Ezekiel Honig makes a welcome appearance on Type with the beautifully melancholy Folding In on Itself. The frayed, spectral layers of ambient sound and dusty pulses within recall the works of Jan Jelinek, The Remote Viewer or even elements of the first Moritz von Oswald Trio LP, but his serene, almost sorrowful palette of tones comes from somewhere more private and personal.

While those artists are all defined by a sense of intimacy in wide open space, Ezekiel's location in one of the most densely populated areas on the planet perhaps gives it a more introverted insularity, as though he's cosily enveloped by his memories while the world scurries about on the outside. Those memories and their corruption or decay are at the core of this record, like the overlaid family photos on the sleeve, capturing a sense of entropy in his quickly disintegrating city.

Locally made field recordings are placed as rhythmic and textural clues to the shape of his environment, and when they happen to fall in sync with his instrumentation the effect is lush, creating and effortless illusion of everyday aleatory syncopation. This beautifully measured sense of drifting, stigmergic arrangement with programmed elements makes for a captivating narrative as varied as a walk through the city itself, but subtly enhanced like some sort of moody augmented reality app or wandering blindfolded through some vivid sound art installation. If anything, it's as softly spoken and moving as anything Type have put out to date, so handle with care.

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